


Dancing with a Feeling

by siruru



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940's Bucky Barnes, 1940s, 40's bucky barnes, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Puppy Love, Reader-Insert, Secret Crush, Slow Dancing, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 15:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15003479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siruru/pseuds/siruru
Summary: In which dance lessons lead to something more, at least for a moment.





	Dancing with a Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic trade with the lovely @irndad ! i am imaging this taking place just some time before bucky gets drafted. also, if ya don’t wanna feel sad, don’t read the last line. 
> 
> Please enjoy and feedback is always welcomed.

_The girls meet with some fells at The Three Spades every other Wednesday. There’s always a Joe to dance with._

Dorothy had two you that two days ago and you still weren’t so sure if you wanted to go out with the rest of the girls from secretarial class. It wasn’t that you were a damp cloth, but you didn’t know how to dance, there wasn’t a single dancing bone in your body -- something you got from your father, as your mother like to say. In all your years, you were used to sitting on the sidelines, watching other people swing and laugh as you smiled and wished you were them.

_If ya need a dance partner. I’ll be there too._

No, it wasn’t really that you needed a dance partner, but those hazel eyes that belonged to Thomas Moore, a young man that worked near the school promised you a lot of things that you had hung onto for years, for someone else. Maybe, this was your chance to break through and become a different person, a whole new you for Brooklyn to see. Then, why were you running back to your hunting ground to see one person?

“ _James_ , please just a couple of moves,” you plea, as the older man shakes his head though there is a teasing grin on his face. However, he wonders why you are suddenly desperate to know how to dance. In all the years of knowing you, it had never bothered you before.

“Now, Gunny,” you frown at the darn nickname that he always uses for you, “Why the sudden change of heart? I mean, I’ve been dancing ‘or years, why now?”

“I-I-...A fella,” you manage to say, though it’s a lie -- it’s a really bad lie, but it’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth. He frowns, but you don’t notice it as you’re looking at the wooden floor of his apartment as an awkward silence fills the room before Bucky raises his arms.

“Well, it’s about time,” he grins as your head snaps back, as he puts his hands on top of his thighs. You give him a weak smile, as he gives you a full blown grin, “We can meet af’ta I get out of work, spend the evening practicing.”  

“That’s perfect, Bucky,” you smile and get up to kiss on him the cheek before leaving his and Steve’s shared apartment to head to your mother’s, promising to meet him tomorrow evening. James lets out a tired sigh before leaning into the decaying chair and battered chair, Steve comes out of his room shaking his head.

“You’re really gonna teach her how to dance? Just so ‘nother guy came in and steal ya girl,” Steve questions as he looks indereciously at his oldest friend, not sure what had gotten into him, “5 years, Buck! You gonna let that go to waste.”

Bucky doesn’t answer him because Steve already knows the age old retort on the tip of his tongue: he doesn’t deserve you. A beautiful dame like you deserved the world on an oyster, not living paycheck to paycheck from a measly dockworker. You were out there studying and making something out of yourself, Bucky wasn’t even sure what he wanted out of life, aside from you, Steve, and Brooklyn.

“I hope ya don’t regret it, punk.”

* * *

First Day. 10 missteps.

“Come on. Ya can’t be that bad!” he laughs, while twirling you as you let out a huff of annoyance, though losing too much breathe as he spins you a couple of more times.

Third day. 5 missteps.

“Atta girl!” Bucky grins as you match his step, sidestepping before you’re back in his arms again. There is a huge smile on his face. He’s so bright and happy, even though he’s catching his breath and sweating bullets. Blue eyes catch yours and you swear your heart skips a beat.

5 days. 0 missteps.

“Ready! Jump!” you squeal lightly as Bucky picks you only to spin you and drop you back down again. After so many tries, the little dance trick is perfected, as the two of you can’t help but laugh as Steve shakes his head. You’re a giggling mess, as he puts his arms around your waist and sways you back and forth, though the music isn’t playing anymore.

It’s soft and all you’re doing is listening to his humming and racing heartbeat, but then it hits you like a freight train.

**Are you in love with your closest friend?**

* * *

 

Here’s the thing though, out of the 10+ years the Bucky had known you, he could safely say that there was only two phases in your life -- one was the “gunny” phase. As the middle child and only daughter of six children, you had pretty much acted like a boy your entire childhood. Wearing overalls, playing in the dirt, and punching bullies (after your brothers taught you how to fight) was how Bucky had known you most of your lives, then one day you’re suddenly dressed in a pretty satin dress with a brightest smile on your face.

How was Bucky not supposed to fall for his close friend?

(Though, Steve will tell a different story, that he’s been in love with her all his life, Bucky just didn’t notice until that one moment.)

Now, for once he has you ready to dance like he’s always dreamed of, so he can send you off to some other guy.

“Change of pace. Slower,” he chides you, as the song changes from the big band sound to something softer, as he motions you to put your hand on his shoulder. The apartment is warmer the usual, as you and Bucky glide over the wooden floor of the living room area. It had been this way almost every day since you had asked him for lessons with Steve watching from the back of the room, wondering when you were going to notice the lovestruck eyes Bucky made.

That thick skull certainly ran in your family, just ask all of your sister-in-laws.

“So, what’s he like?” Bucky, after days of agonizing, finally decides to ask the question as you go from looking at his shoulder to straight into those pretty baby blues of his -- bad idea.

“What?” is all you manage to say after you break out of your daydream, though you end up stepping on his foot, as he stops moving while hissing in pain. Steve shakes his head, watching his two best friends stumble over each other as the music fades and the question is quickly forgotten-- both in a completely loss over the other. How was he the only one to see it?    

* * *

 

 _“_ _Steal his heart, gunny,” Bucky smiles at you, before walking you back home. You pause unsure of what to say, the thing on the tip of your tongue that you have been feelings for days now._

Now, here you here Wednesday evening with the girls, unsure of what to do besides watching the from the sidelines. Because while Bucky had taught you how to dance, you were still dead last at flirting. You had tried dancing once with Thomas, that didn’t end up so well as you almost step on his feet and his arms were too long, to many things bothered you about him. So, most of the night you pulled a Steve Rogers and sat the night away -- that was until a familiar blue suit caught your eye, dancing with a pretty redhead.  You sigh and get out of the dancehall.

_I can’t be in love, not after all this time._

(Steve would tell you that you been in love with Bucky just as long, though it just took you _waaay_ longer to figure it out.)

The revelation hurts as tears start to sting the corners of your eyes and your throat starts to constrict with unshed wails. You hug yourself -- I mean, who the hell is stupid enough to fall in love with Brooklyn’s own womanizer, Bucky Barnes? Apparently, you were. You close your eyes and lean on the wall and just let everything bring you into a state of numbness for a good while, until you hear a familiar voice, though more somber than usual.  

“It don’t feel right, huh?” you look up from your slouching position to see bright blues burning with the same feeling coursing through your veins.

“What?” you frown, pretending you don’t know what he means as he shrugs.  

“Dancing with someone else now,” Bucky explains, as he stretches out his hand in front of you. A fragile smile on his face and silent request in the air. You bit your lip for a moment before taking his hand without a second thought, a giddy smile upturning his lips before he spins you right there and pulls you closer than ever before.

“You better not make me regret this, Bucky Barnes.”

“Not in your wildest dreams, gunny.”

(And one day, Steve will say that the brief time you two were together was the happiest he had ever seen Bucky, then or since.)  


End file.
